Second Chances
by SazMarie
Summary: Months after the night England was freed, evidence comes to light about the possibility that V wasn't on the train when it blew. Evey is thrown in to turmoil as the Fifth draws closer. But Evey and V aren't the only given a second chance at what they lost
1. Wakening

**Yeah, I know this has been done. A lot. But I couldn't help myself. This is just a small opening prologue with changing views, reflecting the beginning of the film. After this the chapters will become longer.**

8th October. 6.23am.

Far under the streets of London a lone woman woke wrapped in satin sheets. Stretching her sleep ridden limbs her eyes blinked open to be greeted by the vision of stone walls of the vast underground gallery she now called her home. Only now did she realise that she didn't wake by her own means but rather by the shrill cry of her phone demanded her attention.

* * *

Deep within the writhing mass of concrete making up the London jungle a lone man woke in unfamiliar cotton sheets. Attempting to move his limbs only brought pain so instead he tried opening his eyes, with more success, to take in the sight of a dimly lit basement. Only now did he hear the beeping and whirring of the machines that he realised he was attached to.

* * *

"Hello," the woman greeted her caller as she grabbed the mobile phone by the bedside table. It had surprised her at first that she got reception down here, deep within the Shadow Gallery, but thought of the previous owner flashed through her mind and her face donned a small sad smile. After the year she had known him, nothing about him should have surprised her.

* * *

"Hello," the man croaked trying to call a presence in to the room. It surprised him how harsh his voice sounded and again he called, this time stronger. His mind was still muddled and he only had the faint recollection of memories. The first that returned was the memory of his love. A small sad smiled donned his face hidden behind the mask at the surprise to find that she returned his love. But after the year he had known her, nothing about her should have surprised him.

* * *

"Hello, Evey," a man's voice greeted her. Evey Hammond smiled at the recognition of Eric Finch's voice. "Evey," he continued before she could speak and only now did she hear the distress in his voice, "We found it yesterday. The last of the rubble was cleared from Parliament and we found it. Of course the train was blown to bits but there was still wreckage. The only thing that there was no trace of was him. No clothing, no mask, no... remains." Evey stared wide-eyed without seeing. She didn't realise her grip on the phone had slackened until she was scrabbling among her bed sheets trying to scoop the phone back up in to her shaking hands. "I quietly hired some doctors and forensic experts. They have inspected the site thoroughly and nothing has been found. Absolutely no trace. They were surprised. They reluctantly admitted that he could have been vaporised but it is extremely unlikely. Near impossible."

* * *

"Hello, V," a man's voice greeted him. V tensed on the bed knowing that he wouldn't be able to defend himself if confronted with an enemy. A man stepped through the door and when V remained silent the smiling face approached, continuing talking, "Don't worry, V, I mean you no harm. In fact, quite the opposite." The man strode toward the bed and paused in his speech to check the equipment linked up to his patient. "I found you. That night. Unconscious near an abandoned subway station entrance. I knew it was you instantly. The real you. You were very close to death, your body riddled with bullets and you lay in a pool of your own blood." V's eyes underneath his masks widened as his memories returned. He died. Or at least he thought he did. He didn't remember anything after lying in Evey's arms. Evey. His love. It was only when he felt a gentle pressure on his bed from the man sitting that V returned his attention to his saviour. "I knew that it was still dangerous for you. Especially with you like this. I'm a doctor so I brought you to my home and enlisted the help of some friends from the hospital I could trust. They were shocked and seeing your injuries they found it extremely unlikely we could save you. Near impossible. But we tried. And succeeded."

* * *

"You mean..." Evey finally managed to choke out. Her voice was a mere whisper and her limbs still shook.

* * *

"You mean..." V croaked. His throat felt raw and his voice suffered for it. It didn't seem possible that he could be here. After all he had prepared for his life ending on that night.

* * *

"He survived."

"I survived."

**I hope you enjoyed that and I interested you enough to keep a lookout for this story getting updated. Well bye for now :) **


	2. Ministry

**Gah, I've just realised that the lines I used to separate the different points of view in the last chapter didn't show up. I hope people didn't find that a problem. Anyway, enough of my babble. Enjoy the next chapter :)**

8th October. 7.09am.

Evey's mind was a battlefield. Conflicting thoughts waged war on each other and it took all of her focus to put one foot in front of the other without walking in to anyone and to keep her face neutral. For her to display anxiety in public was to cast doubt in to the people's hearts. At the moment she couldn't just be Evey, the young woman who just found out that it was possible, if not likely, for her love to be alive, her love who she believed dead for almost a year. No, in public she was Ms. Hammond, aid and friend to the new Prime Minister as well as his right hand man, Eric Finch. For a while the people of London called for Evey or Finch to take up the post of England's new leader but both refused, allowing a young politician who had been secretly in the resistance to take the position. At first the public was unsure but after seeing Finch and Evey side with him they were assured that they were indeed safe. Free.

It was to the Prime Minister's home and office Evey was now walking. She was always getting warned and fussed over, told that she should take the protective detail to and from the Shadow Gallery but Evey just scoffed them. She knew she still had enemies, people who wanted her dead, but she felt safe walking in the heavily public streets. And Evey soon learned to defend herself with V's knives.

V. He taught her so much. Gave her so much. Even with the long months stretched behind her since the Fifth, Evey's heart still ached with grief from his loss. But more than that was the pain she felt when she remembered that she never got the chance to tell him that she loved him too. She hesitated for the smallest moment and then it was too late. Or was it? That was the thought that kept running through her head since Eric's phone call. Hope should have surged through her veins, and it did, but that hope was a double-edged sword.

For if it was true it meant that he was alive. Not only did that mean that Evey loaded his living body on to the train to die in the explosion, but he hadn't returned to her. If it was true and he was alive then he had chosen to stay away from her. This brought his dying words to question. Did he plan his death from the beginning and only gave her the words that she wished to hear as a goodbye or did he really love her and managed to escape death by chance and now couldn't return to her side for whatever reason?

With that turmoil in her mind the walk to the new Ministry building seemed shorter than usual and in no time she was standing in front of the smiling guards. For most gaining entry to the building was a laboured process but there was no mistaking who Evey was and soon she was waved through the tall iron gates.

At once Evey dropped the calm show knowing that she was among friends. V may have taught her to control her fear but that didn't stop her from being anxious, worried and nervous. And she saw that she wasn't the only one. People were huddled in whispering groups as she walked by and others rushed past her, their eyes fixed to messy reports they were clutching in their hands.

Stopping at a particularly ornate wooden door Evey knocked hurriedly before stepping in without waiting for an answer. That was her routine. She felt as though it was at least polite to knock but she never had the patience to wait for permission to enter. Anyway the Minister always told her to just come in.

When she entered the room it was the Minister who Evey first noticed. Jonathan Wilkins was standing up but had his hands placed on the desk in front of him. His sandy hair fell in front of his chocolate brown eyes as he looked down to read the report but when he heard Evey's entrance he straightened up, tucked his hair back and plastered a charming, yet tired, smile on his face. Evey knew that the Minister was infatuated with her, and even if she didn't work it out for herself, Eric had warned her. But at the moment she was playing dumb, her heart already belonging to another and even his death couldn't break that bond.

"Ah, Evey," Jonathan greeted her, waving her toward him, "Please come in, I'm sure you will want to hear this." Apart from the Minister, two other people stood in the room. Eric Finch, who hardly left the Minister's side, and when he did he was with Evey, and a young blond who Evey hadn't met before. But as Evey approached she could guess that the woman was one of the forensic scientists Finch had hired to inspect Parliament's ruins. "Please continue," Jonathan instructed the blond when he judged Evey was close enough.

"Yes, like I was saying," the scientist said, pointing to some photos laid out on the desk. Evey peered at them, almost hesitantly and once she was standing at the table Eric shifted position ever so slightly to grab her hand in support. Shortly after November the Fifth rumours started flying around the newly freed media about a possible romantic relationship between the two. They always seemed so close and in truth they had strangely become very close friends after watching the fireworks together. But that was only what they were. Friends. Evey and Finch soon squished the rumours that they were more.

"At your request we scanned the area a third time," Evey couldn't help but slightly smirk at the woman's annoyed tone here, "And again we found nothing. There is absolutely no trace of him. Of course the explosion could have easily vaporised him," Evey felt Finch's hand squeeze her own and only then did she realise that she had flinched slightly, "But the mask and knives would have been tougher. There is wreckage of the train and judging by the masks he shipped out, the mask was stronger. Actually, a lot stronger."

A sudden silence filled the room at the possibility that V was alive. Eric cast nervous looks toward Evey, trying to judge how she was taking the news. Of course she should be pleased that he may have survived but then where was he now? "So," Evey said unexpectedly loud making the woman jump slightly, "You're saying he is alive? V is alive?"

"Well that is a difficult question. Of course we can never really know what happened to him after you sent the train but-"

"Is he alive?" Evey repeated, cutting off the woman, raising her voice again. A hint of annoyance crossed the woman's features but that soon melted in to sympathy as she looked at Evey Hammond. Everyone knew her story. Or at least they knew the story that they wanted to hear. V saved Evey one night from Fingermen and she in turn saved him. He was forced to take her back to his Shadow Gallery, fearing for her safety. At first she resisted him and once escaped but it wasn't long before he found her again. She left again, but this time she didn't need to escape, he let her as he loved her. But she returned on the eve of his revolution, showing her love for him, only for him to die in her arms and for Evey to send the train to blow Parliament with V loaded on it. Evey never once mentioned the love they shared but she didn't have to. It was obvious the way she talked about him in those few interviews. "Well?" Evey suddenly broke the woman's thoughts.

Clearing her throat the woman glanced down at the clipboard she was holding, partly to cover her embarrassment. "Well, there is a 5% chance that he was on the train when it blew and everything was totally vaporised. No, probably less."

"Thank you, Miss Edwards," Jonathan said waving vaguely toward the door as a way of dismissal. The woman showed herself out, leaving the room in silence.

"Bloody hell," Eric said, breaking the quiet atmosphere,"What do we do? Do we announce it? I mean, we have his memorial planned for the Fifth next month. People are expecting a memorial. Speeches. Fireworks."

Suddenly a newly hired clerk burst in to the small office. He opened his mouth to speak but then blushed furiously at realising he had ran in to the room without knocking. "Sir, I'm sorry... I mean... Important news... It... Door... I want to apologize..."

"What is it, Thomas?" Evey asked kindly, taking pity on the man. Thomas looked at her like a deer caught in headlights before fumbling with the remote for the small television in corner of the office. Thomas awkwardly pressed some more buttons before the sound of the news filled the room. Evey's eyes widened at the mask staring back at her. "Oh, God," she murmured before sighing, "Well I don't think wondering about whether to announce it or not will be a problem."

V's face flashed up on the screen with the newsreader hurriedly reading from a piece of paper in front of her. Apparently someone from the Ministry had leaked out the information that V was possibly, no, probably alive. They even had the new pictures of the wreckage of the train that was just uncovered.

"Erm, sir?" Thomas stammered, gaining everyone's attention again, "What do we tell them?"

"The truth," Jonathan answered immediately. Ever since taking up the post he was obsessed with always being truthful to the people, earning and keeping their trust. "Tell them that although new evidence suggests V wasn't on the train when it blew, it is still a possibility and the explosions could have destroyed any trace of him," Jonathan seemed to pause here, noticing how Evey squirmed. What he would say next would hurt her, he knew, and when he spoke he saw the guilt within her simmering just beneath the story, "However, it is true that the more likely scenario is that V was alive when Ms. Hammond placed his body on to the train. But she had no way of knowing. He was so close to death that it was impossible to detect the small glimmer of life. Evey did not know he was alive. She shouldn't feel guilty," he directed his last sentence towards Evey but she was looking down at the floor, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes and see their blame.

Here Jonathan nodded and Thomas started to scurry away with his own nod, furiously taking down notes. He had just reached the door when he was called back. "Oh, and Thomas." Thomas looked back at the Minister who glanced quickly at Evey. "Make sure the public know we had no knowledge of this possibility. Even if he did escape the train he was still grievously injured and in all likelihood still died. We have had no contact from V. We are presuming V is dead and the memorial will still be held with Evey giving her speech, that is if Miss Hammond is agreeable." Evey gave a weak nod, her mind still spinning over how easily she could have killed V.

"Righteo then," Jonathan said clapping his hands together trying to bring some cheer back in to the room as Thomas left. "Now that that is over, who would like a cup of tea?"

**Well there you have it. I told you the chapter would be longer and I hoped you enjoyed it. I very much appreciated the reviews and please don't stop them coming. Unfortunately, the next chapter will be much like this, just trying to explain some things before the story progresses. It is going to be a little while longer before they are reunited. I apologise in advance. **


	3. Answers

**Just want to say thank you, very much, for the reviews. They really do keep a writer going :)**

11th October. 9.46am.

V blinked his eyes open, his forehead crinkling up for a moment in confusion. He was still in the dim, but extremely clean, basement wired up to machines. No, that wasn't what concerned V. He knew that Madame Luck was with him that night when this doctor found him. Anyone else and he could have been put in to real danger. But V now knew that he was safe here. Without this doctor he would have most certainly died.

No, his surroundings wasn't what confused him. It was the fact that one minute he was listening to the doctor talking to him and now he was opening his eyes, emerging from a heavy fog of sleep. He didn't dwell on the thought long though as a humming women stepped through the door carrying fresh laundry. When she spotted that V had his head lifted from the pillow she briefly faltered in her steps before grinning like a maniac, leaving the forgotten laundry on a small table.

"Oh, you're awake again, How grand," the woman chirped, beaming down at V while scanning her eyes over the medical machines. "But where are my manners? I'm Catherine. Catherine Doyle. A nurse and friend of Dr. Henry Smith. You've already talked to him as I believe."

V bowed his chin in to a nod and confirmation. So that was his saviour's name. "A nurse you say?" V muttered, glad to hear his voice sounded stronger than the last time he used it, "Then I believe I have my thanks to give to you. Dr. Smith mentioned how he had help from his friends."

The nurse giggled in embarrassment, "Well I guess I should say you are very welcome," the woman seemed to pause in her actions and thoughts as some cheer slipped from her face, "Though I must confess, when I first saw you I told Henry there was no hope. I'm very glad I was wrong. We discovered you had some anomalies in your blood than enhanced healing."

The question in her last statement didn't escape V's notice. "Yes," V said hesitantly. These people had saved his life but in reality they were still total strangers. He hadn't even trusted Evey with his past so V just said, "I am aware that my biology differs from most people. The result of some... treatments I received a long time ago."

Catherine nodded to herself, her smile back on her lips but this time more subdued. "Yes, at Larkhill. That was the only thing we could think of when studying your blood."

Larkhill. She mentioned Larkhill. How did she know? As far as he knew the only people who knew about Larkhill were those who had links to it. V had made sure to wipe out anyone who had worked there directly. Had tortured him directly. Had caused St. Mary's directly. But of course there must have been nameless people in the government who were out of V's grasp. He thought he was safe here, but why was he so quick to trust? He never trusted anyone. Evey perhaps but even then his trust was limited.

Catherine tilted her head toward V, a quizzical look upon her face. "I.. I'm sorry," she stammered, still slightly confused at what she had done to receive V's sudden stillness and silence. She knew he was awake and staring at her intently by how the mask tilted her way, the breathing underneath growing more frantic. Then something seemed to twig in the nurse's mind. "Oh!" Catherine yelped to herself, straightening up, "Of course. You don't know anything that has happened, you don't know what's been uncovered... I'm sorry for mentioning Larkhill but rest assured, we are most definitely not Norsefire," Catherine's small freckled nose wrinkled up in disgust at the name before she continued speaking, "Since Norsefire's fall the people grew restless and wanted to know about you. Eric Finch stepped forward with that horrid lady's diary."

A small sigh could be heard from under the mask. V was relieved that he wasn't in the enemy's clutches, but at the same time he couldn't help the rage bubble up inside of him for his story getting splashed across the headlines. But then again, V thought trying to cool himself, why did he allow Finch to read the journal and meet with him in the guise of Rookwood? So he knew the truth. And so he could announce the truth in turn. V just didn't expect for his own truth to be known.

Pain distracted V's thought and he realised his muscles had clenched when he became tense. Forcing himself to relax V turned his mask toward the nurse who stood silently, wringing her hands together as though scared to have upset her patient. "In the whole round of human affairs little is so fatal to peace as misunderstanding*," V quoted, "I apologise, Mademoiselle. It seems I have no knowledge of this new world and am quick to judge by the standards of the old one."

Instantly Catherine's face was alight with a grin. Carefully, she settled herself on the edge of V's hospital bed, gently placing a hand over his. "Would you like me to tell you? About the new world I mean?"

"Very much," was V's instant answer. He was very curious as to how everything turned out. He couldn't remember anything between confessing his love in Evey's arms and waking up here. So eager for her words, V hardly flinched under her touch.

It seemed the nurse was a very social person and loved to talk. Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the prospect of telling V the story of the world he helped to create. But first her professional nature kicked in. "Now this is a long tale. Tell me if you wish me to stop so you can rest. You must still feel weak," Catherine instructed. V nodded his head, indeed feeling weak but he knew he wouldn't stop this woman talking. V himself didn't even give himself the time to speak as he was too eager for Catherine to start.

"Where shall I begin?" Catherine said, settling in for a long story, "Well, after your friend, Ms. Hammond, thought you dead, she loaded your body on to the train and covered you with your roses as a burial. Finch said it was very beautiful." V's heart soared at the loving gesture his Evey gave him but was momentarily distracted by the mention of Finch's name. What was he doing there? "Oh, Finch found the train. Just before Ms. Hammond started it. For a moment he tried to stop her but hearing her words he let her send the train. I still have no idea how Henry found you in the alley. Have you?" V shook his head impatiently, causing Catherine to hurry on with the story. "Of course the fireworks were beautiful. Thousands stood and watched. The streets were full of celebration and only ended when Ms. Hammond stepped forward with Finch to speak to the people. She warned us not to celebrate yet. Norsefire was still the government, even though you had made sure to dispatch the leaders to give us a chance at fighting them. She wept as she told us of your sacrifice and death. She has never said it, even to this day, but everyone can see how much she loves you." Evey loves him. Of course when she confessed she didn't want him to die, V saw the love in her eyes but she never spoke the words, giving him small doubt in his moment of death. But if a whole nation saw her love surely it must be there? _Oh, Evey_, V thought to himself, _I'm sorry to leaving you alone but I'm proud of you_.

"Norsefire put up a fight. But the police force stood behind Finch and soon Norsefire was disbanded. Of course there is still little resistant groups but Finch is very good at his job. Norsefire numbers are getting fewer and fewer," V didn't miss the dark satisfaction in Catherine's voice as she continued her story, "Then there was the problem of who should be in charge. For a while the people demanded Ms. Hammond, or at the very least Finch. Both refused. But they stood next to Jonathan Wilkins. He was a party member for Norsefire but had been working against them for years within their ranks. Finch confirmed this and he was made Prime Minister." V nodded satisfactory. He knew of Wilkins and how he was, as some would say, a double agent.

"From there England has steadily improved. Wilkins is a good man and with the help of Ms. Hammond and Finch he has started restoring England to what it once was," Catherine said proudly, straightening her back subconsciously, "Now there is no more quarantine zones; they were just a way to keep everyone caged. No more curfew; already a few nightclubs have opened. No more discrimination; gay couples can walk down the street proudly and foreigners have returned. In fact, there is a lovely Indian restaurant down the street. Of course, there is still a lot of work to be done. Only recently have they started clearing up your mess," Catherine smiled cheekily, referring to Parliament, "They've cleared enough to have a wide open area so they have have a ceremony in Parliament Square. There is a statue of you being erected there. It was just announced that they will still have the memorial next month, despite the fact that they have found the train and no trace of you. You're still presumed dead," Catherine concluded on a sombre note.

V couldn't believe it. It was better than he could ever hope. So much had been achieved. Actually a lot had been achieved. This thought made V's blood run cold as a question occurred to him, "Ms. Doyle," V started, "How long have I been here?"

Catherine seemed to stiffen. V could feel her body freeze as she sat on his bed. She flickered her sympathetic eyes toward him before glancing down at her lap, "It was three days ago when you first woke before drifting back in to unconsciousness. It was the 8th of October. Today it is the 11th. For the past eleven months you have been in a coma."

At first V couldn't comprehend the meaning of Catherine's words. His usually quick mind was still muddled with drugs but when it finally hit home V sucked in a sudden breath. Eleven months. "I have missed so much," V whispered to himself, unaware that Catherine heard. The kind nurse squeezed his gloved hand.

"I know, darling," Catherine soothed, "It must be a shock. For you to give us the chance to start a new world and then miss it being built."

V nodded. Well yes, there was that. But V never really expected to take part in England's rebuilding, even if he had survived. But his mind couldn't stop torturing him with the image of a crying Evey as she tried to hold on to V, tried to hold on to his life. In that moment V regretted that he hadn't taken more precautions when he went to kill Sutler and Creedy. Of course he would have still done it. He needed to do it. For England. But in that moment V had wanted to live.

But it was too late. Or so he thought. Now he had the chance to live. To love. To be with her. His Evey. But he had abandoned her. As he slept peacefully in a coma, V left her alone to battle to restore England. He left her alone in the cold and vast Shadow Gallery. He left her alone to weep.

But he also left her alone to grow. To strengthened. To fight for her country. To defeat Norsefire. To start a new government. To be a heroine. Surely over the many months, with so many admirers, Evey lost her grief for him. Catherine claimed that Evey loved him, and V didn't doubt that, but over the months she could have easily learned to love another. And even if she didn't her love for him would have diminished like a flower in winter. What right did he have to stride back in to her life? A creature of shadow and darkness? He didn't have the right to drag Evey back in to the depths where he wallowed when she was bathed in her own spotlight. No, Evey deserved a life full of light. Full of people. Full of hope, happiness and laughter. A life without him.

**Phew! Sorry about the long dialogue here but I wanted to put a bit of history down. This has actually given me an idea to do a prequel.. But I promise to continue work on this. Does anyone else want to slap V? Thought so :)**

*** **_In the whole round of human affairs little is so fatal to peace as misunderstanding – __**Margaret E. Sangster**_


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